


The Last Man Standing

by Sandra296



Series: The Kingmaker [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Time Skip, Romance, What-If, grey morality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 23:07:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20590628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandra296/pseuds/Sandra296
Summary: What if Rodrigue's death doesn't bring Dimitri's sanity back? Byleth and Felix had to make a choice, and consequence came with it. Wherever this road led, they would walk down together. AU of Azure Moon (Blue Lions) route.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was unsatisfied with the turning point of Azure Moon route because it was really a STRANGE way to cure mental disorders.  
ALERT: Major Character Death, Spoilers of Azure Moon route.  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.

“Spar.” Felix said in a commanding voice and threw a wooden sword at Byleth’s feet.  
She didn’t take it up. She didn’t believe a friendly sword sparing was what Felix needed most at this moment. “Don’t want to talk?”  
“This,” He made the stance of swordplay, “is the only language I like.”  
Byleth sighed and picked the practice sword up. “Very well. Just so you know, most people want some … consolation in situation like this.”  
Felix huffed dismissively. “That only proves most people are useless fools.” Even before he finished his word, he lunged at Byleth, swiftly just as any day.  
He slashed at her shoulder, she parried the strike and tried to thrust at his chest. He backed in time to doge her thrust, and cut low at her legs. She struck at his wrist to force him abandon his attack. Soon they fell into the familiar rhythm, just as they had done countless times before. If Felix was shaken by his father’s death, he didn’t show it in the swordplay. He was just as skillful and fearsome as any time he wielded a sword. After an intense exchange of blows and thrusts, Byleth found a weakness and struck Felix’s sword free. He picked up the sword and made stance again, showing Byleth that he was ready for another turn.  
“It’s enough for today, Felix.”  
“Don’t take pity on me.” He warned, but relaxed and lowered his sword anyway.  
Byleth had learned not to take Felix’s word literally long time ago. “I will never. But you need to take a rest.”  
“Don’t … worry about me. I’m not going to be another Boar. There is difference between me and him. Between human and beast.” Seeing Byleth would not spar with him longer, he made his way to the dummies and began his practice on his own.  
Maybe it is better to leave him alone for a while, thought Byleth. But she couldn’t help but standing at training ground, watching him training as if he could never tire. After another few slashes at the dummies, Felix seemed to have enough. He whirled around and snapped. “If you had something to say, then say it! Otherwise leave! I can’t concentrate while you are standing there gaping at me like a fool.”  
Byleth made her mind. She strode forward and took his empty left hand in her right. She couldn’t touch him, for his leather glove separated their skin. Felix froze but didn’t pull away.  
“You are never alone. I will always be here for you.” She said simply and hoped her words to really convey her mind.  
“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep.” He whispered.  
“Have some faith in me.”  
“How can I have faith in someone who disappears for five years, only comes back when everything is going straight to hell?” Bitterness soaked each word of his. “We searched for you. Perhaps it had been a poor job because of the war, still … I thought you were dead, and I had to fight a way out, all by myself… if there is really a way.”  
“I’ve never told anyone what happened during the five years. Because I thought I’d better keep this a secret. But listen, I will tell you everything I remember, and maybe … maybe it will restore some faith of yours.” Then she told him ** everything**. After all there is no one else listening. From how Suthis merged their souls together, to the fateful battle defending Garreg Mach, how Archbishop Rhea transformed into a dragon, how Byleth herself fell into the chasm and how Suthis woke her only shortly before their said date of reunion.  
“So, you are more than a Goddess-chosen.” He replied thoughtfully, “Goddess, at least what the church wants us to believe to be the goddess, exists within you. Almost no injury could kill you, because you will heal yourself by sleeping?”  
"That is a way to address it." Byleth acknowledged. She cupped his cheek with her left hand, and Felix leaned into it. He nuzzled his nose in her palm. His hot breath and a loose lock of dark hair tickled her skin.  
“That’s why I said you should believe in me.” She held his gaze. “But there are limits to my power, for one, I couldn’t save your father. I tried so many times, until my power exhausted. In the worst times, both he and Dimitri were killed. I’m so sorry.” She admitted sadly.  
“Don’t be.” He said huskily. “He chose the way he wanted to die. I believe you tried your best. If so, there’s nothing more to regret. The rest … the rest is upon us now. It’s damned miracle the rest of us are alive, and I know how, finally.” He huffed out a cynical laugh. “Think about it. All the time people ask why Goddess let this or that happen, why don't she save them, and the answer is so simple: because there is no Goddess, not the one the church said to be ominous.”  
Byleth didn’t know how to reply this theological comment, so she simply chose to be silent. Then Felix tightened his grip on her hand. The swordsman’s steely grip should have hurt, had Byleth be a normal person who never take up arms in his or her own life. But her hand, no less bathed by blood and sweep than Felix’s, only stayed there and emitting warmth even through his thick leather glove. Byleth stepped closer and stood on her toes.  
She kissed his cheek and tasted salt.  
Felix didn’t say anything, nor did he kiss back. It was not unexpected, Byleth thought. But the tension held inside Felix relaxed a bit. “Thank you.” He stared at her face, an eerily, almost timid tenderness and longing obvious in his eyes. He pulled his hand back gently.  
When Byleth left the training ground, Felix was still standing there motionlessly like a statue. The rain kept pouring down, and Byleth wondered,_ with the war raging on, how many homeless were shivering under a tree, beside a ruined house, with nothing to eat and no means to protect themselves? How many wounded and abandoned were struggling in the mud, waiting for their demise, by infection or by enemy's blade? _


	2. Chapter 2

In the days following, neither Felix or Byleth talked about what happened in the training ground. But sometimes when their eyes met, Felix would flush and hastily averted his usually sharp eyes. Sylvain was the first to found it when they were having a meal together at the dining hall. He looked at Byleth, then Felix, then back at Byleth and smirked at her. Although Sylvain didn’t say a word, the pink shade on Felix’s cheekbone deepened, and he stumped on Sylvain under the table. Sylvain elbowed him as revenge. Byleth pretended not to notice any of these.  
Byleth decided to have some training herself in that afternoon. The doors to training hall stood ajar when she approached it. There were people talking inside. She hesitated whether to push the door open or wait until they finished their conversation.  
“Can you just put more effort into training? When will you grow up, if ever?” Came an annoyed female voice. Byleth recognized it belonged to Ingrid. It seemed she was trying to drill another lesson into a certain person.  
“Come on, Ingrid. You know I can handle myself just fine.” Sylvain replied carelessly. “Let’s have some rest, lest you exhaust yourself before the true battle.”  
“How could you say this? ‘I can handle myself just fine.’ How dare you? Had my Pegasus be a little slower, I wouldn’t be able to rescue you last time, then you would … then you …” Her voice broke.  
Byleth wasn’t sure if she should interfere with it. On the one hand, it was her duty to keep the moral high and sooth people’s nerviness. On the other hand, this conversation was a bit more private for her. She didn’t like the idea of being disturbed if it was she and Felix …  
“Calm down, calm down. Please. I promise I will be more serious, please. I never mean to make you upset, Ingrid. We protect each other on battlefield, remember? Nothing you worry about will happen as long as we watch over each other …” Sylvain reassured her. Then a small sound of sneeze came.  
_So no need for me say anything, _ Byleth thought and turned around, only to find Felix was standing right behind her. Considering his fanatic love for swordsmanship, it was actually no surprise at all.  
She mouthed him the words “Sylvain” and “Ingrid”, then shook her head, hoping Felix would get her meaning. He did, and stared at the doors annoyingly as if they offended him personally. Because he looked too much like a pouty child being denied candies, Byleth had to suppress a sudden urge of giggle. Felix rolled his eyes and left.

One day, when Byleth was on her way to the great hall to receive a message from scouts, she accidently eavesdropped a conversation between two guardsmen.  
“So you are from Fhirdiad? What is it like? Never been there myself, always busy with dad’s farmstead.” A young boy asked his older fellow.  
“Big city, used to be quite a sight. Now only fools would go to it. It is like hell now.”  
“That bad?”  
“That bad. The villages around are plundered so the food price went several times higher since the war. The she-devil, Cornelia that’s her name, tortured and execute lots of townsfolks because they are discontent with their children starving. ‘Accomplice with the traitor’, she branded everyone she doesn’t like.”  
“What a leech!”  
“That’s not even the end of it, I tell you. She knows some most vile magic that turns people into monsters. Some died in a most horrible way. And she uses the monsters to fight her war.”  
“I can’t wait to see her been put to an end.”  
“Well … you have a long time to wait, boy.”  
“How so? Isn’t our side winning? Have you not seen the Goddess-chosen lady?”  
“She is a sensible one, and mighty. But she can’t decide matters alone, boy. There’s that … prince.” The older guard said in a tone of disgust.  
“So, is it true?” The young one lowered his voice, but Byleth still could hear him. “That he has lost his mind?”  
“Everyone knows it, boy. Everyone. He is a poor one, that prince. Lost his father, then his crown got stolen and himself almost killed, escape to the wild living on Goddess-know-what. No wonder why he is like this. Still, I don’t get why these lords and ladies follow him, if they are not as crazy as him.”  
“Because … he is the prince, I guess.”  
“You guess right, boy. But if you ask me, I don’t give a damn if I’m following a beggar’s son or a king’s, as long as he could lead us to beat the damn Empire. But the lords and ladies don’t see this as you and I. Strange minds they have. Strange indeed.”  
Byleth reflected on what she heard. Clearly, Dimitri’s state of mind couldn’t be concealed forever and people were starting to have second thoughts about following him. This would certainly do damage to the moral. What’s more, the longer he refused to retake capital, the longer the local people would suffer under the tranny of Cornelia. And if he didn’t intend to restore his kingdom, their cause would lose its righteousness. Faerghus force probably would cease to fighting with them. And she had to resist the whole Empire, the surrendered Alliance and Kingdom with the church’s force. What a wonderful future. Byleth thought about the two ways out of the dilemma, _either Dimitri put off his obsessed vengeance and started listen to reason, or someone else should replace him …_With the former one seemed more and more impossible as time went, the latter had its appealing. But no, that sounded too sinister for her taste. She would give another try to persuade Dimitri at their conference.  
The scouts brought a worrying news for them. An imperial army was on its way to Garreg Mach. Clearly, Edelgard regarded their retreat as a prof of their lack of strength and now intended to strike a heavy blow to her nemesis.

The time of their conference came and everyone gathered at the table. Byleth urged and reasoned with Dimitri another time to make taking back Fhirdiad as their next goal. And as usual, her words had the effect of throwing a pebble into the boundless deserts – no sound, no waves. Some agreed with her but knowing they could not change the prince’s mind, choosing to keep silent, such as Annette. Some didn’t look to Dimitri for lead at all. The sole reason they joined because they trusted Byleth and their disappointment grew day by day. And there were a few who agreed with Dimitri on everything without a trace of doubt, like he was the deliverance sent by heaven. Felix was the only one vocally objecting Dimitri with her, especially now, with his father gone and no one else to admonish him.  
But it didn’t work, of course. Byleth sighed inwardly and change the topic to a more pressing matter. The incoming imperial army.  
“We shouldn’t wait for them to come to Garreg Mach. First, our cavalry wouldn’t make much difference in defending a castle. Second, since the walls and towers were damaged both five years ago and recently, but have not be repaired properly, I doubt they can be of any use. Also, I don’t want to wait for the enemy to have a rest and attack us where they** expected **us to be.” Byleth reasoned.  
“So you are suggesting an ambush?” Felix questioned, frowning. “Not bad. But we’d better keep the information tight.”  
“Your highness?” Ingrid looked at Dimitri, asking his opinion. “How do you like the idea?”  
“Anything to kill more rats.” The lone eye looked into some point in the air.  
“Very well. Now let’s talk about the location … “

The ambush was as much a success as it could be under such an imbalance of might. They made right deduction of route and speed of the imperial army, hid in woods or disguised as civilians in nearby village; they neutralized all imperial sentinels and marched in the protection of night in silence and reached the enemy camp before dawn. Then they fell on the enemy like wolves on prey.  
_Only if there didn’t bring so many crest monsters with them. _Thought Byleth as she cutting down another one, whose dark muscle fiber disappeared into the air as the creature fell. The human soldiers were shocked and totally unprepared, therefore not much of a problem. Soon their assembling was cut across by the charge of knights or scattered by the fire of mages. But these monsters knew no fear nor fatigue, and needed no preparation to join battle. Byleth looked across the battle field, which was bathed in the orange sunlight in the breaking of dawn and littered with corpses from both sides, and realized they still had a hard fight ahead. She was not particularly worried, a** hard ** fight was not an ** impossible **fight, and that would be good news on their standard.  
Byleth saw Sylvain was corned by two monsters and couldn’t hold both of them off for long, so she ran to him, with the Sword of Creator blazing in her hand. One saw her coming and breathed fire towards her, which missed. She hacked her sword on one of its front leg, it howled in pain and fury, adding to the already deafening sound of battle. She used her opponent’s moment of distraction to dash for its side, then slashed at the rear leg at the same side. There was no blood in its body, still the served muscle opened a big split. The monster tried to turn, but its enormous body was too much for the wounded legs to support and it staggered, out of balance. Before it could regain it and stroke her again, she thrusted her sword into the monster’s torso twice. Then it fell, the abominable body disappeared.  
She turned, and saw Sylvain and Felix killed the other one. Across the camp, the fighting was still going on ruthlessly. The smell of blood mixed with the burnt flesh, was carried everywhere by the morning wind. The scream of pain and battle cry echoed with clash of mental. Horses neighed and wyverns growled. Then Byleth returned to fighting, to killing and to, saving.

When the battle was finally over, Byleth was terribly tired and sleepy. There were scathe and blisters on her, which ached annoyingly, yes, but nothing dangerous. She knew the real reason of her fatigue was nothing else but excessive use of the Sword of Creator, just like five years ago when she used it tear the space itself open. She forced her eyes open and dragged her feet to meet her companions, just barely tolerating the fierce protesting of every sore muscle and aching bone in her. Everything before her eyes was blurred like looking into a misty mirror, and every sound was so soft and distant like a breeze in summer leaves. Her head kept growing heavier and she didn’t even know exactly where she was heading.  
Someone walked beside her and spoke something. But Byleth could make nothing of it in her haze. Somehow, hearing the voice made her feel safe and warm. When was the last time she felt such things? Perhaps when she was still a child. When her father was still alive.When she was ignorant of the sorrow in this world. She couldn’t remember, not could she really be sure where and when she was at that moment. Everything was distant, irrelevant ... She was so tired. Then why couldn’t she stop walking? She bumped into something solid, with a familiar scant of leather. Maybe it was … an animal, because she felt gentle tickling on her face by something like … fur. She rested her head on the solid … thing and felt her arms being gripped. Entirely forgetting the reason of her walking, she gave in to the fatigue as the blissful darkness surrounded her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Changed to Felix's POV.

The word ‘panic’ was hardly in Felix’s dictionary. He was always calm, collected and cautious. A swordsman in panic made an unreliable warrior, and an unreliable warrior brought nothing but disasters for himself and his side.  
However, seeing Pro – Byleth going limp and unconscious right in front of him after an intense battle did push him to the brink of panic. Not that he would ever admit it, but he was extremely worried for a moment. Then he thought of her uncanny healing power and brought himself under control again. Still, she needed someone to examine her.  
That was the reason why he carried her across the whole field to the tents set up by the nuns of Seiros, in which they heal the wounded. Some people eyed him and her, then whispered among themselves. Felix pretended not to notice. On the way he met Sylvain, who seemed exhausted and messy as himself, a long wound on his forehead which had stopped bleeding by now. But otherwise Sylvain was still in one piece.  
“Ah, Felix, being chivalrous today? Well, for that matter, is our beloved Professor alright?” Sylvain made his foolish attempt for a joke, and failed on Felix as usual.  
“Mostly fine. She used the Sword too much, I suppose.” All at once the sensation of holding her in arms came to him. Despite his fatigue, he selfishly hoped he could hold this solid warmth to him just for little longer.  
Sylvain, being Sylvain, seemed to notice his uneasiness and a mischievous look glinted in his eyes. “When are you going to tell her? No, are you going to tell her at all? Or are you going to bury this inside of you for your lifetime and use sparring as an excuse to go near her?” His smile widened. “I could almost see your future as a lonely old man, using your hot temper as a disguise of your mournful mind, weeping silently for a missed romance of your youth! Really, just tell her.”  
“I have no idea what you are talking. And if you can’t form a sentence that actually makes sense, you’d better keep your mouth shut. Idiot.” Felix replied harshly.  
“I really miss the little Felix who would pour all his troubles with me. Speak your mind once won’t hurt. Even you know that, Felix.”  
“No I don’t. Now move along, if you don’t have important matters. You should have your head wound tended, by the way, and be careful with your head next time. Hell knows what an idiot you’ll become if you get a blow to your dense head. You are insufferable already.” Felix was annoyed at Sylvain’s timing. _ Talking about his feeling, with all kinds of errands to run after a battle, was he really thinking?_  
“I’m so touched for your concern Felix! I’m going to cry!” Instead, Sylvain laughed. “But mark my words, you should tell her, the sooner the better. I’m sure it isn’t unrequited.”  
“How convincing considering this is coming from you.” Sarcasm filled Felix’s words.  
Soon they reached the tent, and Sylvain went with a lovely nun to heal his wound, flirting shamelessly along the way. Felix set Byleth down on the camp bed, and waited Mercedes to examine her.  
After Mercedes cleaned and sealed small wounds on Byleth, she said. “Professor is fine. she only needs some rest.”  
Felix nodded. “Thank you. I’ll keep an eye on her, you could tend other people in need.”  
Mercedes smiled at him and moved on. “I’m certain you will take care of her well.”  
Felix knew it was a petty excuse to touch Byleth, still he found some clean water and a cloth, toke off his gloves then kneel down on the ground beside and began to wash blood, dirt and sweat from her. With her armor and cloak taken off by Mercedes, Byleth’s arms and a part of upper back were exposed to the air.  
He meant to do this methodically and evenly, as if he was cleaning his swords. But soon he found it was a ridiculous idea. _No sword would radiate warmth with a steady pulse, or have beautiful lines of muscle and soft surface of skin. The unearthly greenness of her hair dulled all the decoration jewels that were put on the sheaths by even the most vainglorious nobles. _He pushed the hair away, wiped her asleep face clean. He stared this face, which sometimes haunted his dreams during the last five years, and realized the idea comparing her with a sword is rather laughable.  
_A sword was cold and lethal, an equipment designed and wielded by people to kill, without will or thought of its own._ He mused, his hand gently touching Byleth’s cheek._ But she was something totally different. True, she was an excellent tactician and expert in swords. But she was also his sole hope amidst this bleak campaign and protection against the powerful enemy who threatened to burn everything he cherished, tear apart everyone he cared. She was light, and life, the existence which weapons could never substitute._  
Unconsciously, he took her hands in his. They are hardened by swordplay and had already took numerous lives, just like his. Still, he could clearly appreciate the gracefulness within and longed to kiss them, but not to pathetically caress her when she was asleep like here and now. He imagined, when she was awake and looking at him affectionately, to press his lips to every knuckle and looking into her shining emerald eyes …  
He was startled by this thought and put back her hands shamefully. The night Tower of Goddess rushed into his mind vividly, when he naively told her that his hands were only meant to hold sword, that he despised all kinds of so-called romance. He felt so embarrassed and hot on the face. Had he knew any magic to travel back in time to the that night, he would certainly kill that stupid boy to prevent she ever hearing this coming from him.  
He didn’t need to talk to Sylvain, because he knew what he felt towards her, perhaps all long.  
He loved her.  
_It’s not unrequited. _Sylvain said. But it could kill him to find out.


	4. Chapter 4

He dozed off for a while, sitting on the ground and leaning into the bed. The feeling of her fingers beside his head was too soothing to resist after a night’s march and a hard fight. Then he awoke suddenly, sensing danger or malice around. He quickly stood up, hand on the hilt of his sword.  
It was the Boar inside the camp, approaching him. What surprise, huh. He dropped his hand and waited the boar to state his business.  
“Assemble the Fraldarius troop. We have rats to chase.” The boar commanded him, with a voice like boulders grinding each other.  
Felix frowned, giving Byleth a quick look, who was still in her sleep. “Talk outside.” He gestured.  
The prince scanned between them, then nodded unwillingly. He turned and walked out, so Felix followed. He had a bad feeling about this.  
Outside, the sun had risen to midday. Under the bright sunlight, the prince looked even more intimidating with his tall build and broad shoulder. “You’ve become soft.” He commented in distaste.  
Felix’s frown depended. The Boar was the last person he wanted to talk about this, so he evaded the topic. “What do you need the troops for?”  
“I can’t see the need of explaining myself to you. But … very well, I saw her escaping. If we hurry up now, maybe we could still catch up.”  
Felix knew who the pronoun ‘her’ stood for at this point. “Nonsense. No information we received has indicated the Empress was with the army herself.”  
Drawing by their tense conversation, a small crowd circled them. Ingrid, with bandages wrapped her left arm, was pulling a confused Sylvain behind her. Mercedes looked unworried while Annette stared at them nervously. Gilbert and Ashe were present, too.  
“Are you defying me?” The Boar hissed dangerously.  
“If you are not the king of Faerghus, then you have no authority over me. Simple as it is.” He had enough of the Boar’s bullshit.  
“Felix, surely your father would not–” Ingrid suggested tentatively.  
“My father can do anything he wanted. But he is dead now. ** Dead. **As long as I’m concerned, a dead man can’t command his troops, nor can he fight the war. The world of living has no room for the dead’s dictating.” Felix replied coldly.  
“Felix, what is this all about? Why do you lash out at his highness, all of a sudden? You want him to apologize for your father. Is it?” Ingrid looked torn between two of her friends.  
“You don’t get it, do you?” Felix snapped. The long-suppressed anger now was boiling his blood. He took a deep breath. “This isn’t anything personal. I don’t care about what happened between my father and him. This is about us, about Faerghus.”  
He turned to the Boar. “Let me be clear. If you, Prince Dimitri, if you now go back to Fairdihard and fight the usurper Cornelia, my sword is yours, so are the Fraldarius soldiers. After we defeat her, I’ll acknowledge you as liege and king, and support you in rest of war against the Empire with everything I have. However,” He paused. “If you still intend to chase your ghost and bring those who go with to hell with you, then I’ll cease to following you, even for a single step.” He said in an even tone, but the content was like thunder in everyone’s ear. No one spoke. No one dared to look away from it.  
In the deadly silence, the Boar laughed, humorlessly and hollowly, like the winter gale cut across a deserted castle. “Even you, even you are abandoning me now? Good.” He barked out another laugh, even colder than before. “Go on then, lick your Empress’ boot.”  
“I never suggest we should surrender to her. Anyone with a common sense knows what is the more pressing matter, what is the right – no, plausible order to do things. And you don’t, clearly. Why should I follow a maniac’s order?” Felix retorted.  
“Whatever. I’ll kill her eventually. That’s the only thing matters to me. Now get lost.” The Boar resumed his indifference. “The rest of you, come to me when you are ready.” He shoved Gilbert out of his way and strode away.  
“Felix! You can’t really mean any of these! This is no child play where you can’t throw a tantrum whenever you are unsatisfied!” Ingrid was agitated.  
“I’m no more a child than any of you. I may not be the Duke in name, but the Fraldarius troop is mine to command now, and I have a responsibility to them. So as I have, to the people of our homeland. The earlier we liberate them from the usurper Cornelia, the less they suffer and die.”  
“Felix … come on, I know you wouldn’t do this to his highness. This isn’t a matter to be dominated by emotions.” Sylvain was uncommonly serious, sensing the potential effect of the fallout.  
“It has nothing to do with my feelings! The exact opposite! The boar has made his decision, so have I.” Felix didn’t know why they all think him being unreasonable because of his father. How could they be so blind? So ignorant? “You are just so indoctrinated by the so-called creed of chivalry that you are blind to the consequence of your action! You’d rather risk, no, throw away your lives following a madman’s suicide attempt, than try to protect people in need! You can hide behind this blind loyalty, not questioning if he deserves it, pretending that you are being noble and courageous, that your cause is not a doomed one. Or you can face the hard reality, that he is irredeemable, and save your people, save … Faerghus. Our Faerghus.”  
Silence followed. Much as they love the Boar, they could not deny the truth in his words. Then from the gathering a voice rose up, “Well said! I almost applaud for you, duke of Fraldarius!” Ferdinand von Aegir, the Adrenstain imperial exile, stood out. “A king’s action should not be clouded by his personal feelings, but decided on the base of the benefit of his nation. Prince Dimitri’s obsession with killing Empress Edelgard has demonstrated his poor kingship. I, with my followers from Aegir dukedom, side with you.”  
Felix groaned inside. Of all the people, a former imperial idiot had to speak first? Will others doubt his own motivation judged by who supported him?  
“Perhaps it is mean for me to say this, but I … agree with Felix. People back home needs us. Cornelia is executing every person she thought to be a threat. The surrendered lords are taxing their people heavily to bribe the imperial overlords to keep their lives and lands. Not to mention the marauding routed bands, bandits, and the dark experiments in which people’s life been toyed.” Said Annette, sincere concern for her hometown in her tone.  
Several people nodded, including Ashe and Mercedes, but Felix wasn’t relieved. Sylvain and Ingrid, the two nobles whose families were struggling with the war, remained disapproved.  
“So, what we should do now?” Asked Marianne uncertainly.  
“If Professor wakes up in afternoon, we shall listen to her. If not, maybe we could lodge in a nearby village and rested for night.” Mercedes suggested.  
“Sounds good. Then we shall tend to our matters and make preparations.” Felix concluded. Taking this as a dismiss, the gathering dispersed. Ingrid and Sylvain remained._ Here we come,_ thought Felix dryly.  
Ingrid looked at him like she had never met him in her lifetime, anger and confusion swirling on her face. “I used to think you were just sacred by his highness’ change after the event of Duscar. But no, I can’t recognize you. You’ve changed.”  
“The tenant of your chivalry never convinced me.”  
“Still, you abandon him. You are betraying him. And enticing everyone to do the same.”  
“If you really seek death with such a passion, at least die for some purpose worth it. What will you accomplish with dying with him?”  
“Who decides what is worth dying? You? No, I cannot be a coward like you. His highness is the one I vowed to protect and nothing will ever make me turn back on my vow.”  
Though having expected this response, Felix rolled his eyes nonetheless. “Life is not a fairytale where you can simply divide people in good and evil, Ingrid. The Boar is not an infant thrown into a malicious wild to fend on his own. He was wronged and betrayed, true. He has lost family, also true. But consider the miserable people he neglected, the kingdom – our homeland – he abandoned, all for his twisted love-hatred for Edelgard. Can you really think following him is the right thing to do?” Felix paused for a moment, then went on. “I have my responsibility, not to the half-maniac, not to the dead souls of my father and brother. But to the living, to those who cannot protect themselves.”  
“Nothing you say can change my mind.”  
“I’m afraid that is mutual. Sylvain, you?” Felix turned to the other one.  
Sylvain smiled at him so brightly that it was almost hurt to look on. “Felix, I don’t blame you for what you are trying to do. But no, I’m going with his highness. I have persons that I must protect, the same as you.”  
Felix sighed. He thought about that day he got blocked by Byleth outside the training ground. He knew by whom the ‘person’ Sylvain meant. He couldn’t blame Sylvain, either. Maybe he would do worse in the other one’s shoes. “Fine. But at least wait for Byleth to wake up, maybe there is still another way.”


	5. Chapter 5

The first thing Byleth came to was the soft and furry sensation on her neck, and her hand being held by someone.  
She opened her eyes, and found a cape made of light blue cloth and fur covered her in replacement of a blanket. Felix was sitting on the ground besides her. He swiftly pulled his hand away. “Had a good dream?” He asked with sarcasm, but his eyes betrayed his relief.  
Byleth sat up, and Felix’s cape slipped down. The fresh air made goosebumps on her flesh. “How long was I out?”  
Felix shrugged, “A few hours. If you are hoping you've slept through the war and everyone is now living happily, brace yourself for the disappointment.” He gave Byleth her blood-stained cloak. “Put that up before you catch a cold, assuming you can catch a cold.”  
She put it up obediently and slipped out of bed. “Anything important?”  
“Aside from that I decided to part way with the Boar? Nothing.”  
Byleth winced, wonderful news had a tendency to come after her healing sleep. She would keep that on note. “You what?”  
Then Felix told her about their fallout.  
“Where are they now?” She asked.  
“Still in the camp, but they will set off soon enough.” He hesitated for a moment. “Are you going with them? Protect the Boar?”  
Byleth thought for a moment. “I will try of persuade him not to go. Should I fail, … no, let’s have a try first. Come with me.”  
“At your service.” He taunted, and trailed after her.

True to Felix’s words, Dimitri was about to set off. He observed Byleth coldly, like she was a hostile stranger. _Well that was not really far from mark_, thought she darkly.  
“I see you come with the traitor.” He croaked.  
“I see no traitor here, only those who see reason and those who have not. It’s still not too late for a restart, Dimitri.” She replied mildly.  
“You don’t understand. Maybe you never will. This is the only way for me, beheading her. I won’t – I can’t turn back on the dead.”  
“Take back your rightfully crown and we will march to Anbarr with the whole force of Faerghus. You will have your revenge.”  
“I’ve told you before but I will tell you again: I’m no longer the person you knew, the prince you taught. I’m a beast. The only thing I live for is to hunt her down. Only in this way, will the tormented souls be liberated from their eternal regret and torment.”  
Byleth sighed. She had foreseen where this would lead, just as before, but she will be damned if she just gave up the last chance. “You have so much more than you thought. Things some people would kill to lay their fingers on. Your friends who love you, who will protect you even if it costs their lives, who will welcome you back into them no matter how you treated them before. A kingdom looks up to you and awaits you to be its ruler. You don’t have to live on the memory of the dead.”  
“I do, I’m the only one they could count on. They are the only ones I have been left.”  
“But that’s only the trick of your mind. I don’t believe the dead have such obsession on the earthly matters.”  
“They are real, as real as when they are alive. More so than you.” His lone eye shined in a fervent light. “And I saw the vile woman, among the rats of hers. It is time to end this, once and for all.”  
“A mere delusion. Turn back.”  
“Don’t stand in my way. Don’t think I won’t fight you.” He growled.  
Felix nudged her on the side and whispered. “Shall we use force to stop him?”  
Byleth shook her head. That could easily escalate into a bloodshed. “Let him make his own choice.”  
Satisfied with Byleth’s giving in, the Prince turned sharply and barked command for his meager troops to follow him. The heroic legacy of his house shinning in the color of blood in his hand. That left Ingrid and Sylvain, facing Byleth and Felix.  
“If you let anything happen to you two, I’ll make sure you live in regret of it for the rest of your lives.” Felix made an absurd threat to Sylvain.  
“Relax Felix, just a lil’ chasing after a routed band. Nothing would happen. Remember the old times when we swore we die on the same day? I won’t be finished off as long as you are still kicking around. You worry too much.” Sylvain said merrily  
This somehow triggered Felix. He stepped up and yanked Sylvain’s collar, hard. “**Be. Cautious. You fool.**” He forced the words out between his teeth.  
Sylvain laughed and ruffed Felix’s raven hair fondly. The latter forcibly swatted the red-head’s hand away, causing him hissing in pain. “Calm down, Felix. The next time we meet, I’ll spar with you no matter how long you want. And you are going to treat me the spiciest dish you are always boasting.”  
“That’s a deal, then.” Felix let go the Sylvain’s collar finally.  
“Are you mad at for not going with Dimitri, Ingrid?” Byleth asked the girl – young woman – with a dream of knighthood. “I wish I could. But as the acting leader of the church, I must make a stand before all of my subordinates, lest they lose faith in me and question our chance against Adrenstain.” Even Ingrid were aware how Dimitri was regarded among the soldiers these days.  
“No, I appreciate what you’ve done for us all along, for Faerghus.”  
“I will leave some rear guard for you, in case you need reinforcement. Sir Gilbert will be with them.”  
“Thank you, we’ll see you soon.”

On the way back, when they were about to mount horses, Felix stared at her and his lips moved as if he wanted to say something. Byleth tilted her head to indicate him speaking.  
“… With me.” Byleth didn’t catch the first half of his sentence.  
“I beg your pardon?”  
Felix flushed. “Will you … come to the same horse with me?”  
Byleth was perplexed. Before she could ask why, Felix continued. “What if your ‘healing sleep’ come again? You will fall off.”  
“Ah.” She didn’t know whether to decline him or not. “Has anyone ever told you what a sweetheart you are?” She teased instead.  
“I don’t – I’m not anyone’s sweetheart.” He denied in annoyance. “It’s fine if you don’t want –”  
Before he could finish, Byleth climbed onto his horse with ease, and extend her hand to him. Felix’s mouth clumped shut and he mounted the horse silently. She just loved to see him flushing._ He has no idea how cute he looked with his cheekbone tinted to pink._  
Though the saddle was designed for a fully armored knight and had room for them two, they were still pressed together. Byleth couldn’t see Felix’s expression from her point of view but she bet with her Sword of Creator, it must have been **splendid**. His right hand took the rein of their horse. She felt Felix’s hot breathing on her hair and his left hand circled her waist.  
“We should go.” She said softly.  
“Right.” Felix’s voice was strained.  
As the horse fell into an easy pace, Byleth felt her sleepiness came again. “Did we do wrong?” She asked.  
“No.” That was all his answer.  
“You know they could be killed, on their own.” Byleth shifted in the saddle, nested in Felix’s embrace.  
“So could we. And basically everyone.”  
“Can’t argue with that.”  
“Then don’t. Go sleep.”  
She obeyed.


	6. Chapter 6

Byleth was talking with Shamir and Felix about the military supplies the other day when Cyril carried an owl into the room. “A letter from Sir Gilbert. Very urgent and important.” Cyril handed the letter to Byleth. Her heart fell.  
As she read through the short letter, which was composed in great distress, she cursed.  
“What’s it about?” Felix frowned.  
Byleth gave him the letter wordlessly. Shamir also leaned over to see its content. As Felix’s eyes scanned the lines, he paled visibly. He returned the letter to Byleth silently.  
“Hidden crest monsters attacked them?” Shamir shook her head. “Our enemy is indeed full of surprise. You take others and go ahead, I will guard Garreg Mach in your absence.”  
Byleth looked at Felix in concern and took his arm gently. Surprisingly, he didn’t shake her off. “I’ll count on you, Shamir. Felix, let’s go.” She tugged him. Felix nodded.

Byleth stood beside Mercedes and Marianne while they were trying their best to heal Ingrid, assisting them when they needed an extra hand. It was mostly due to the Pegasus’ marvelous speed and endurance that Ingrid could escape alive. Barely, but still. Mercedes had removed several arrows buried deep in her thigh while Marianne sealed the deep wound in Ingrid’s torso. There are other stabs to tend and one of her arms was broken.  
“Will she … survive?” Byleth asked Mercedes.  
“Probably, but there is still danger of infection and other lethal jinx they used in combat.” Mercedes said while her hands kept working. “Professor, maybe you could check on Felix? We are close to done here.”  
“I will. And thank you, Mercedes.”  
“My pleasure to be of help.”  
Byleth went to seek Felix out. She had a fair guess about his whereabouts. A pang of grief occurred to her on the way and she had to stop to collect herself. She shivered at imagining what Felix would feel now. First his father sacrificed himself for protecting the prince, then… this. The prince was struck down, surrounded by enemies and none of the survivors were able to retrieve his body; Sylvain, the always laughing, always careless knight, like nothing in the world could harm him, perished along with his prince; Ingrid, so heavily injured that even the best healer of the church had doubt whether she could make it.  
But she had to find him, she had to remain strong, had to face the grave consequence of her mis—no, she didn’t regard her action as a mistake. In choosing one path she must gave up another, even if it came with such a horrible cost. She might have the turning back of time, thanks to Suthis, but she had no turning back of fate. She didn’t know whether Felix blamed her, but it was better to live with it than hide away and live to fear it.  
She found Felix standing over Sylvain’s body, head hung, with an expression of deeply in thought. Hearing the sound of her footsteps, he looked up, undescribable light sparked in his eye in an instant. He seemed a lot calmer than she assumed, but that was not a good thing for sure. He resumed his brooding, and Byleth walked to stand beside him. Loath as she was to look at what used to be her student and friend, she had to face the consequence.  
They usually said dead people looked like they are deep in sleep, in their tranquil slumber they left all the pain behind. But Byleth though it was only a good-willed deceive, which meant to bring consolation to the grieving living. Death did not resemble sleeping in the slightest. Devoid of life, Sylvain looked like someone she never laid her eyes in her lifetime, a total stranger. His eyelids and cheek were sunken, like a starving man. His lips pale and his skin was grey like burnt ash, never to be rekindled again. His armor broken and smeared with blood all over.  
Eventually, Felix broke the silence. “Do you think it is me? That it is me that killed them?”  
“Of course not. It is the Adrenstain army. Unless you are another Death Knight undercover.”  
Felix glared at her. “Since when have you learned making the stupidest jokes?”  
“I apologize, though I didn’t mean it to be a joke. Let me rephrase it: you are no more to be blame than anyone here. Especially me.”  
“I parted way with, Dimitri. Then he and Sylvain are dead, overrun by the enemy. They are killed because I deserted them.” He argued.  
“It was me that always argued we should head back to Fhirdiad on every occasion possible -- I planted the idea in you. It was also me that finally agreed that we should no longer support Dimitri’s reckless pursuit. I tried to persuade them not to go, but I failed and didn’t force them to abandon this mission. If anyone is stained by their blood and to be judged, it is me.”  
“You are saying these only to make me feel less guilty. I knew it could lead to this the moment we let them set off.”  
“So did I, Felix. But we shall leave the questions of morality to other days when we have the luxury to discuss them. This doesn’t change what we are about to do.”  
Felix tightened his fists. His brown eyes bored into Byleth with such fiery determination that she had never seen on anyone else. “No, it didn’t. Besiege Fhirdiad. Trial Cornelia and execute her publicly if possible. Regroup the forces. Take back the lands conquered by Adrenstain.”  
“Indeed. But there is still one more thing to discuss. Let’s talk outside.” As Byleth left the room, she turned her head to give one final look at Sylvain. She wondered if he, or her imagination of his ghost, would haunt her, the same as Dimitri’s legion of ghosts haunt him; If she would eventually lose her sanity like Dimitri, for the things she had done and had not done; If she would become obsessed with hunting down the people she deemed responsible, and torturing them in the bloodiest way she could think of. In another word, she couldn’t help but wonder if she had the tendency of being another Dimitri. _Or was it, that in every and each of person’s mind, there was a creature, a facet of character like Dimitri, locked secure in peaceful days and let loose in bleak times?_  
Byleth scrutinized Felix’s face, searching for signs for tears or breaking. Unable to find either, she returned to the topic. “With Dimitri presumed dead, when we defeat Cornelia and restore Faerghus to kingdom, someone has to be the king.”  
Felix grasped her meaning in an instant. He winced, hard. “By the Goddess. No. ** Never.**"  
“Have you not thought about it when you said that you were parting ways with Dimitri, that he was irredeemable?”  
Felix frowned. “I … tried not to give it too much unnecessary thought.”  
“But here we are. There is no escaping from it.”  
“I don’t deserve it. Nor do I want that damn thing.”  
“When we take down Cornelia, no one else will be more worth, more appropriate than you. The regent grand duke was assassinated five years ago and his heir surrendered to Adrenstain. The lineage of Blaiddyd ended. Gautier … well, there is only you. Your father was highly respected, and your house was powerful and fought against the invaders for all the time.”  
Felix unconsciously took a step back. “Definitely not. I’m the least one fit for a king.”  
Byleth sighed. “All you need to change, is not to challenge everyone you meet to a swordfight and you will do just fine. You are pragmatic, observant, intelligent, sensible, tough, resolved. All desired traits for a king. Not to mention your reputation as an expert swordsman.”  
“But I’m not brought up as a future king. I’m not charming as the Bo – Prince Dimitri used to be. People are – were willing to sacrifice themselves for he without a second thought.”  
“And where does it lead them to?” Byleth exclaimed. “Be a king who leads them to victory and a future, Felix. Not a king who leads them to martyrdom in cold graves.” She added softly.  
“You are making it like a child’s play.” Felix objected. “I may not able to do it.”  
“I will stand with you and help you through it. I promised you. Remember?” Byleth said reassuringly.  
It somehow ignited Felix’s anger, he hissed and pushed Byleth against the wall. He bowed his head down a bit to look into her eyes. “Don’t make promise to me again. Never again.” He warned furiously. “Those who made promises to me always broke it. And suddenly, I'm the last man standing…” He choked and could go on no more. In his watery eyes glistered the sharpest sorrow that Byleth had ever seen. A single drop of tear rolled down his nose. Seeing this, Byleth felt her chest tightened and ached. She cupped his face and wiped the drop away with her thumb. He pulled Byleth forcibly into his embrace and her mouth bumped hard into his iron-like shoulder.  
“Don’t say it. Don't make **promise**. I can’t …” His voice broke. He was crying.  
Byleth held him. “We will make it. Believe me.” She said soothingly. The tears filled her eyes now, tears that she couldn’t fathom who it was for. But her voice was even.  
Felix buried his face in her hair and inhaled, shaking. “Don’t leave me. I won’t have you that.” He commanded childishly.  
“How can I, Felix?” Byleth replied lightly. “We are already bound together by the so-called fate. Neither of us alone could win and survive.”  
Felix shook his head, his jaw rubbing Byleth’s hair. “That’s not what I mean.”  
“I know.” Byleth whispered. “I know. No matter what awaits us, I will go all the way with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Better to live with it than live to fear it' is actually a quote from Joe Arbercrombie's First Law trilogy. I really like Arbercrombie's works so I used it here.  


**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic on AO3, thanks for reading.


End file.
